In tears, my lord?

LEONORA

ALONZO.

What less can speak my joy?

I gaze, and I forget my own existence;

'Tis all a vision; my head swims in heav'n.
Wherefore, O! wherefore, this expence of beauty?
And wherefore?!

Why, I could gaze upon thy looks for ever,
And drink in all my being from thine eyes;
And I could snatch a flaming thunderbolt,
And hurl destruction-

LEONORA.

How, my lord! What mean you?

Acquaint me with the secret of your heart,
Or cast me out for ever from your love.

My lord, you fright me.

your nuptial hour?

I am ill-us'd, my lord; I must not bear it.
Why, when I woo your hand, it is deny'd me?
Your very eyes, why are they taught to shun me?
Nay, my good lord, I have a title here;

[Taking his hand

And I will have it. Am I not your wife?
Have I not just authority to know
That heart, which I have purchas'd with
Lay it before me then; it is my due,

my own?

Unkind Alonzo, though I might demand it,
Behold, I kneel! See, Leonora kneels,
And deigns to be a beggar for her own!
Tell me the secret: I conjure you tell me.
The bride foregoes the homage of her day;
Alvarez' daughter trembles in the dust:
Speak then; I charge you speak, or I expire,
And load you with my death. My lord-my lord!

ALONZO.

Ha! ha! ha! [He breaks from her, and she sinks upon

the floor.]

LEONORA.

Are these the joys which fondly I conceiv'd?
And is it thus a wedded life begins?

What did I part with, when I gave my heart?
I knew not that all happiness went with it.
Why did I leave my tender father's wing,
And venture into love? That maid that loves,
Goes out to sea upon a shatter'd plank,

And puts her trust in miracles for safety.

Where shall I sigh? Where pour out my complaint?
He that should hear, should succour, should redress,
He is the source of all.

ALONZO.

Go to thy chamber;

I soon will follow: That which now disturbs thee,
Shall be clear'd up, and thou shalt not condemn me.
[Exit Leonora.
O, how like innocence she looks! What, stab her,
And rush into her blood?-I never can;

Men are but men; we did not make ourselves:
Farewell then, my best lord, since you must die.
O that I were to share your monument,

And in eternal darkness close these

eyes

Against those scenes which I am doom'd to suffer!

What dost thou mean?

ALONZO.

ZANGA.

And is it then unknown?

O grief of heart, to think that you should ask it!
Sure you distrust that ardent love I bear you,
Else could you doubt when you are laid in dust-
But it will cut my poor heart through and through
To see those revel on your sacred tomb,

Who brought you thither by their lawless loves:
For there they'll revel, and exult to find
Him sleep so fast, who else would mar their joys.

ALONZO.

Distraction!-But Don Carlos, well thou know'st,
Is sheath'd in steel, and bent on other thoughts.

ZANGA.

I'll work him to the murder of his friend.-- [Aside Yes, till the fever of his blood returns,

While her last kiss still glows upon his cheek.

But when he finds Alonzo is no more,

How will he rush, like lightning, to her arms!

There sigh, there languish, there pour out his soul;
But not in grief-sad obsequies to thee—

But thou wilt be at peace, nor see, nor hear,
The burning kiss, the sigh of ecstasy,

Their throbbing hearts that jostle one another:
Thank heav'n, these torments will be all my own.

ALONZO.

I'll ease thee of that pain: Let Carlos die;
O'ertake him on the road, and see it done.

'Tis my command.

[Gives his signet.

ZANGA.

I dare not disobey.

ALONZO.

My Zanga, now I have thy leave to die.

ZANGA.

Ah, Sir, think, think again. Are all men buried
In Carlos' grave? You know not womankind :
When once the throbbing of the heart has broke
The modest zone, with which it first was ty'd,
Each man she meets will be a Carlos to her.

ALONZO.

That thought has more of hell than had the former;
Another, and another, and another!

And each shall cast a smile upon my tomb!

I am convinc'd; I must not, will not, die.

ZANGA.

You cannot die; nor can you murder her.
What then remains? In nature no third way,
But to forget, and so to love again.

If

you forgive, the world will call you Good; If you forget, the world will call you Wise;

In her guilt shines, and nature holds my hand.

How then? Why thus-No more; it is determin'd.

Enter ZANGA.

ZANGA. [Aside.]

I fear his heart has fail'd him. She must die.
Can I not rouze the snake that's in his bosom,
To sting out human nature, and effect it?

ALONZO.

This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun,
Those skies, thro' which it rolls, must all have end.
What then is man? The smallest part of nothing.
Day buries day; month, month; and year the year:
Our life is but a chain of many deaths.

Can then death's self be fear'd? Our life much rather:
Life is the desart, life the solitude;

Death joins us to the great majority:

'Tis to be born to Plato's and to Cæsar;

'Tis to be great for ever;

'Tis pleasure, 'tis ambition, then, to die.

ZANGA.

I think, my lord, you talk'd of death.

ALONZO.

ZANGA.

I did.

I give you joy; then Leonora's dead.

ALONZO.

No, Zanga, no; the greatest guilt is mine:

'Tis mine, who might have mark'd his midnight visit ; Who might have mark'd his tameness to resign her;